He Ate My Heart
by ChimeraDragon
Summary: "I'll always take care of you." A Zombie AU.
1. Prologue

Derek cried out as blunt teeth dug into the meat of his forearm and tore a chunk free. He managed to keep from instinctively burying his claws into the head that was bowed over his arm. He sucked in several deep breathes as his eyes flashed bright blue.

As soon as the werewolf had managed to calm his instincts he looked down at the short brown hair of the creature that was slowly chewing on a piece of his arm. He let his uninjured arm come up so he could card his fingers through the soft hair.

Brilliant amber eyes looked up, a flash of intelligence and care as the piece of flesh was swallowed.

"Don't worry," Derek said softly as he continued to card his fingers through the zombie's hair. "I'll always take care of you, Stiles."


	2. Chapter 1

"Der'k?"

Derek looked up from where he was holding his arm, at the sound of the scratchy, confused voice. "I'm here and I'm healing, " Derek replied, trying to soothe Stiles as the teen used shaky hands to wipe the blood off his face.

"You... I..." Stiles' amber eyes widened as he stared at the bite on Derek's arm. He shuddered as he thought about _why_ there was a healing bite on the werewolf. He swallowed hard and tried to keep his 'meal' down.

"Yes, Stiles, " Derek said, and his tone offered no room for argument. "I let you feed from me. I have the best ... control. And we can't let you get mindless again. It was hard enough on everyone when we found you."

Stiles shivered at the memory as his mind settled back into place. His memories had gotten a little foggy the hungrier he got but 'food' made him stable. He looked up at Derek and sighed. "I'm sorry. "

Derek rolled his eyes. Hard. "It's not your fault this happened. I should ... I should have protected you better."

Stiles wiped his hand on his jeans for a second before he laid his hand on Derek's arm. "Hey! You did everything you could. And I'm still here ... More or less, " Stiles waved a dismissive hand as he leaned into Derek's side and felt the warmth start to seep into him.

Derek sighed and leaned into the contact. "I know. But I don't think either of us know how to not take the blame," he replied with a small, lopsided smile. He let his chin rest on Stiles' head for a few moments before he shook himself and moved to stand.

"What's the plan? " Stiles asked as he took the hand Derek held out to him.

"We've got to go see Scott and the others. They went out yesterday to find out how the research has been going," Derek replied quietly.

"Do you think they'll have good news? " Stiles asked, trying to sound hopeful.

Derek couldn't help but shrug at the question. He honestly didn't know and he'd let his hopes get up too many times. "I hope so ... but I wouldn't want speculate."

Stiles bobbed his head in acknowledgement. "Yeah ..."

Derek raised an eyebrow as he looked over at the teen next to him. "How's your memory?"

"Doing fine now," Stiles replied thoughtfully. "And it's getting easier to remember everything that's been going on. This sucks."

Derek bumped his shoulder against Stiles' as he tilted his head in question.

"Being ..." Stiles huffed as he made a vague gesture toward himself. "Being ... this. A zombie."

Derek growled lowly at the comment. He clenched his hands to keep from doing anything else.

"It's okay," Stiles tried to soothe the wolf. "I've come to terms with what I am for the time being. They're working on a cure. So .. we just have to - to keep up the ..."

Derek raised an incredulous eyebrow.

Stiles huffed. "I know. But it's not gonna make me feel any better about the 'feeding' schedule." He used air quotes. "Or the fact that I ... I have to ... you know," he stumbled to a halt, uncomfortable with the whole situation.

Derek huffed out another sigh and leaned in to rub against Stiles again. "I don't mind. I'm the one that was supposed to protect you. And I failed. And ... I want to do this for you. I ..." He paused as emotion choked the words.

Stiles fave a small smile and nodded. "I love you too," he said as he leaned in to give Derek a quick kiss on the cheek.

Derek turned his head to brush his lips against Stiles' before he leaned back a little bit. "I do love you. I - I just..."

"Suffer from a severe case of emotional constipation, " Stiles finished for him. He gave a knowing smile as he pulled back so they could head back inside where the others would be waiting.

The two of them walked in companionable silence to the door.

"Scott," Derek called, his voice easily carried through the door. "We're done now. You can let us back in."

Scott's face appeared in the small gap in the door as he looked out to confirm. He gave a weary nod and opened the door the rest of the way. "So... it went okay?"

Derek gave a terse nod as he stepped inside with Stiles right behind him. "How's the research coming?"

Scott rolled his shoulder in a half shrug as he moved to lock the door behind Derek and Stiles. He looked tired with dark circles under his eyes. "Don't know. I didn't want to ask."

Derek nodded and led Stiles downstairs. "We have to go get you looked at," he said softly.

Stiles sighed but followed without hesitation.

"Good to see you're both back," Deaton said serenely as he looked up from the notes before him. He had a pen loosely held in his hand and a cup of tea nearby. "How did it go?"

Derek held his arm out and showed the fully healed skin. "It went fine. And he's lucid," he said as he watched Deaton write something in his notes.

"And you, Stiles? " Deaton asked with a raised eyebrow. "How much do you remember from your ... time between meals?"

Stiles frowned but actually took a moment to think. "I just remember the hunger and everything was ..." he swirled his hand through the air. "It was blurry? I know I could see but it was more... I dunno. Food or not food? I guess that's the best way to put it."

Deaton gave a tiny, tight lipped smile. "Very good. Scott and the others managed to get word to a few other emissaries and we're sharing information. I have something new to try. Its a collaboration with the others. If you're feeling up to it."

Stiles sighed as he looked at the intimidating concoction that was bubbling away. The smell wafted over to him and assaulted his nose, making him feel like he wanted to either gag or puke.

"That smells weirdly sweet," Derek commented as he took a tentative sniff.

Stiles looked at the werewolf like he'd lost his mind. "It smells horrible to me..." he countered even as he brought his shirt up to cover his nose.

"Interesting," Deaton hummed thoughtfully as he took down more notes. "It is designed to kill the zombie virus in you. The virus could make this smell bad in order to protect itself."

Stiles shuddered at the thought of having to drink it. "And you want me to try and drink that stuff?"

"Not much. Just a tiny sip. And then I want to know how you're feeling. Hopefully we're getting close to a cure," Deaton replied with a small, but hopeful smile as he held out a small vial with a dose of the 'cure'. It was a strange green substance interlaced with a purple streak. It swirled slowly in the vial.

"I don't know about this," Stiles said slowly as he looked at the vial the same way most people would look at a rearing cobra. He watched the stuff swirl for a moment before taking a deep breath and throwing the whole thing back.

Deaton watched the teen intently with a pen in hand, ready to take notes.

Stiles shivered briefly before his body fell deathly still. "That wasn't too..." he froze mid-sentance and grabbed his middle in agony as a tortured sound was ripped from his throat and his knees hit the ground with a nasty thunk.

Derek dropped to his knees beside Stiles, eyes full of worry. "Stiles? Are you okay? Stiles!"

Stiles groaned as his eyes clouded over and he paled further. His hands dropped from around his middle to brace against the floor. He growled lowly as his hands clawed at the ground.

Derek looked up at Deaton with a look somewhere between pissed and worried. "What's going on? What can we do to help him?"

Deaton frowned and shook his head. "We just have to wait. Just remember that he volunteered for this. And we have to hope for the best."

Stiles snarled and lunged forward teeth snapping as drool escaped from his lips.

TBC...


	3. Chapter 2

Stiles snarled and lunged at Deaton, drool and spittle escaping from his snapping jaws.

Derek managed to catch the teen and haul him back just in time for the vet to scramble away. "STILES!" Derek said sharply.

Stiles blinked and snarled at Deaton again before rubbing his head against Derek and putting himself between the wolf and the Emissary. He seemed beyond words for the moment.

Derek blinked in confusion even as he unconsciously leaned into the contact with Stiles. He made a sound, low in his throat as he moved to put his hand on the other's shoulder. "Stiles?" He asked softly.

Stiles groaned quietly and repeated the nudge before snarling at Deaton again and making an abortive attack that was just barely held back by Derek.

"Well, that's an unexpected result," Deaton said thoughtfully as he backed up the stairs.

"Go," Derek said, tone quiet but firm. He let Stiles lean into him again.

"I'm going to let the others know what's going on," Deaton replied thoughtfully as he made his way up the last few stairs and shut the door with a gentle sound.

Stiles seemed to calm as soon as Deaton's scent was gone from the room. He leaned into Derek with a snarled huff and his seemingly sightless eyes constantly scanned the room for any sign of danger.

Derek sighed softly and let his arms rest on Stiles' shoulders. He let his body heat warm the other as he thought about what had just happened. And if he could come up with anything to make the other man better. But it seemed as though Stiles was reacting to a perceived threat to his Mate. Just like a wolf would. But Stiles had never been bitten by a werewolf which made that theory unlikely.

"D'rk, " Stiles growled, voice low and scratchy as he blinked his slowly clearing eyes.

Derek squeezed slightly to reassure Stiles that he was still with him. "I'm here," he murmured soft and soothing.

Stiles made a noise and leaned into Derek. He closed his eyes for a moment before nodding. "Mine," he growled, the word fairly garbled but still recognizable. His fingers held the wolf close and hard.

"Stiles?" Derek said softly after a few minutes of silence. He gave a gentle nudge to the other.

Stiles grumbled and his head came up to nudge against Derek. "D'rk. M'ne."

Derek huffed softly in mild frustration. "Yes. I'm yours. And you're mine."

Stiles made a satisfied noise at the statement and curled against Derek again.

"Can you understand me again?"

Stiles made an unhappy noise as he rolled his eyes a bit, but nodded in the end.

"What was that about?" Derek asked as he gestured towards where Deaton had made his very hasty exit.

"Thr...et," Stiles managed to ground out. He seemed to be a little more in control and cognizant of what was going on around him. "Bad smell."

Derek cocked his head in thought as he realized what Stiles must have caught on to when the vet had been down in basement with them. The mysterious druid had been working with and mixing various kinds of herbs for days and weeks to figure out how to keep the other zombies from entering the compound they'd made. He'd also been work on a way to get rid of the Zombie virus. Those kinds of scents had probably seeped into his skin so throughly that he'd smell bad to Stiles. It made perfect sense to the werewolf.

"Gone now," Stiles added as he wrapped an arm around Derek. "Keep. Mate. Safe."

The wolf couldn't keep the smile from his face as he nodded. "Yes. You keep me very safe," he said softly as he carded his fingers through the other's soft brown hair.

Stiles huffed and nodded as he leaned into Derek's side once more, content to just be for the moment. Everything else could be dealt with later.

TBC...


	4. Chapter 3

A soft knock sounded on the door to the basement and Stiles' head snapped up as he let out a low warning growl as he pushed Derek behind himself.

"Stiles? Derek? Are you okay in there?" Scott's voice called uncertainly through the door. Loud enough for Derek to make out what he was saying clearly, but still relatively quiet.

Stiles gave a low growl and snarl at the sound, pushing Derek behind himself again. He tilted his head as he listened for more movement or threats. When Scott only pressed a hand to the door and listened, Stiles stilled once more.

"We're fine, Scott," Derek called after a moment. He placed a restraining hand on Stiles' shoulder to let the other know there wasn't a reason to worry. That his mate was safe. "I'm fine," he added, voice low and just for Stiles.

Stiles stopped snarling and gave a final warning growl at the door before he leaned into Derek again. His expression softened as he leaned against the older man. He huffed out a sigh of contentment as Derek's fingers carded through his hair again.

"Deaton wanted me to ask how Stiles is now," Scott called again, voice still careful.

Stiles rumbled again but seemed calmer with Scott not making any movement behind the door. "M'ne," he growled into Derek's hair as he rubbed his face against the other.

"Yes, Stiles," Derek soothed. He rubbed his scruff against Stiles to help spread his scent. "He's still out of it," he added as he raised his voice to make it easier for Scott to hear. "But I wouldn't recommend anyone else trying to get down here with us... he's very protective ."

"Protective?" Scott called back questioningly.

"Of me," Derek clarified. He smiled at Stiles affectionately as he let his fingers card through the teen's short brown hair. Stiles made an approving noise as he nuzzled into the wolf's warmth with only a minor noise of discontent at the sound of Scott's voice.

"Okay. I'll let Deaton know... just call if you need anything," Scott replied, voice hesitating as he started to move away from the door. Derek could tell the other wolf's instincts were telling him to stay and help his best friend/brother even though he rationally knew that wouldn't help anything. His footsteps slowly faded away.

"There, he's gone," Derek soothed, voice low and calm. He moved them over to the couch in the corner of the basement and guided Stiles to sit with him. "We're just gonna sit here and relax until you're feeling more like yourself. And I know that with you... that won't take too long. Right, Stiles?"

Stiles looked up, eyes still slightly cloudy as though there was a slight film over them. Almost as though he had cataracts. He leaned against Derek, posture fully trusting as he nuzzled and sighed into the warmth offered by the wolf.

"Stiles?" Derek asked as he got comfortable.

"D'rk," Stiles replied, voice still more of a growl than words but calmer than before. "M'ne."

"Yes, I'm yours. But do you understand me?" Derek asked as his eyebrows drew together.

Stiles nodded as his own eyebrows drew together in confusion.

"Okay. But you're still having trouble with words?" Derek insisted as his hands went back to their mindless carding. He enjoyed the feeling of Stiles' soft hair sliding between and under his fingers.

"Yes," Stiles hissed out, ending on a moan of pleasure as the fingers moved down to the base of his skull. His slightly milky eyes rolled back in pleasure. He nuzzled into the strong chest before him for a moment before he laid his head down and closed his eyes, as close to sleep as any zombie had been know to get.

Derek let his own eyes close as he drifted, mind and body exhausted by the day's events. he didn't know what else he could to help Stiles. He felt the nearly overwhelming hopelessness trying to consume him as he drifted off to sleep.

TBC...


	5. Chapter 4

Screaming.

Smoke and flames.

Rotting flesh.

Derek awoke with a gasp, his heart raced as he tried to throw aside the nightmare that tried to grip him and pull him back under. He shivered as he felt the phantom fingers of fire licking at his skin. He opened his mouth to howl but the sound was stuck in the back of his throat as he sprang awake to the sound of angry snarling.

Stiles was snarling and spitting as he crouched low over Derek's prone form.

Derek blinked in confusion when he realized he was on the floor and partially shifted. He pulled his claws in as he gently touhed Stiles' sides and hushed him. "Hey, I'm okay. It was just a nightmare. We're okay. You can relax," he tried to soothe.

"D'RK!" Stiles snarled, teeth gnashing in the air. His fingers were curled into claws of his own and his whole body vibrated with barely supressed tension.

"Here," Derek said, voice louder and harsher as he tried to draw Stiles' attention. He growled as he realized that it wasn't working and he shoved on Stiles' chest but was shocked when the teen stayed crouched over him.

"Derek?!" Scott's voice came down the stairs as he jumped down to see what was wrong.

"Scott, no!" Derek called as he reached a hand out as though he could stop the True Alpha before he could reach the bottom of the stairs.

Scott looked up just in time to recieve a Stiles to the face. He cried out as blunt, human teeth dug into his shoulder.

Derek got back to his feet and scrambled to get between the combatants. He pressed himself between Scott and Stiles, but was pushed away a few seconds later.

"Stiles! Stop!" Derek roared as he jumped and landed heavily on the wiry teen's back. He wrapped his arms around the younger man's torso and squeezed, hoping to garner the other's attention through the application of pressure and brute strength.

Stiles snarled and pulled back, teeth still clamped down on Scott's shoulder. He pulled the chunk of flesh free, swallowed and reared back for another attack but when his teeth made contact with Derek's arm he whined and let go. Only a little bit of blood escaping from the born wolf's arm.

"It's okay, Stiles," Derek said with a wince as he felt blunt teeth pull out of his arm. He rubbed his chin against Stiles' head and neck, scenting him to let him know he didn't care about what had just happened. "We're okay."

Stiles slowly let go of Scott, teeth still bared at the Alpha. "M'ne," he snarled as he pushed Derek behind him again.

"Stiles," Scott tried too soothe as he pressed a hand to his bleeding shoulder. "I don't want Derek. He's your Mate. Not mine." He spoke slowly and backed away from Stiles and Derek with his hand up.

Stiles stared at Scott for a few moments, eyebrows drawn together in thought.

"I was just worried about both of you when I heard strange noises," Scott added as his back hit the wall and he was able to fully stand up again.

"S'rry," Stiles growled. He didn't come closer to Scott but he did look sorry for biting him.

"It's okay," Scott reassured him. "I knew it was dangerous for me to come down here while you two were resting. But I came because I care. You're my family."

Stiles made a strange, almost wounded noise in the back of his throat. His hands held onto Derek but his face said he wanted to go to Scott too.

"Don't worry, bud. We're gonna figure this out and get you back to normal," Scott assured Stiles as his shoulder stopped bleeding. "After all, you've got Derek and me. And the others. We'll get you through this."

Stiles nodded, eyes starting to clear a bit. He leaned against Derek as his mind seemed to reset. He shook his head to clear the cobwebs from his mind. "...'m s'rry..." he mumbled.

Scott grinned and shook his head. "It's okay. I'm just glad it was me instead of one of the others. I heal faster than they do," he said. He pulled his hand away from his shoulder and shrugged at the amount of blood that was running down his arm. "And if it helped you out of ... whatever happened when you tried the new drug? I'm okay with that. It hurt, but you're okay and I'm okay."

Stiles nodded again. "Good. B'tter now..." his words were starting to sound clearer.

"Maybe it was a combination of time and another feeding?" Derek asked. "We should tell Deaton."

Scott opened his mouth to reply when the door to the basement was kicked open violently.

"Kill the zombie!" a voice shouted.

TBC ...


	6. Chapter 5

"Kill the zombie!" a voice shouted.

Derek shoved Stiles to the floor through sheer weight and surprise as the teen tried to get his mind working again.

Shots were fired and Derek grunted with each impact but he refused to move from his place on top of Stiles. He made doubly sure that Stiles' head was protected from the worst of the onslaught.

"Stop!" Scott's voice commanded, his eyes glowed red and his tone reverberated with the threat of an Alpha werewolf. "We're not the enemy!"

"You're not, but that ... _thing_ is," the man replied as he reloaded his now empty magazine. He wore dark, stained and ripped, clothing and had the look of someone that didn't have anything left to lose. "We have to get rid of all of them or we'll never be free."

"If you shoot at us again, we'll be forced to attack," Scott replied, tone sightly calm but full of menace as he unsheathed his claws and showed his fangs along with the glowing red eyes.

"You don't scare me, werewolf," the man replied even as his eyes tracked Derek dragging Stiles behind the couch despite the teen's renewed agression. He let himself be led but he still growled at the intruders. "Why you've got a zombie down here, and are protecting it... I don't know. And frankly? I don't give a damn. It has to die. Just like all of the others. We have to keep the living safe.

"We're working on a cure," Scott replied, fangs and claws still out.

"And that's just a pipe dream kid," the man replied with a long suffering sigh. "Just something to help those that are bitten. A hope that it won't have to end like all the others. But it will. They've been bitten and become mindless and have to be shot."

Derek stood from behind the couch, still blocking any shots that could be taken at Stiles. "He's not mindless."

"So why did he attack your Alpha?" the man retorted as he tried to get a clear line of sight. He didn't even look surprised as the bullet wounds on Derek pushed out the lead and healed.

"He told you, we're working on a cure. This one didn't go well and had some nasty side effects. We had to feed him to get him back to normal," Derek replied as though the man on the staris was an idiot. "How else are we supposed to know if it works than to actually use it on one of the undead?"

"I prefer the term living impared, if you don't mind," Stiles called from behind the couch. He stayed hidden, and his voice was scratchy like he'd been screaming, but he sounded lucid. If a little tired.

Derek let his hand drift down and behind himself to squeeze Stiles' hand reassuringly. "See? That's the 'zombie' you came looking for. He's lucid and doesn't attack people unless he's attacked first. So, leave. Or you'll have to deal with me."

"You don't scare me," the man on the stairs replied. "I've dealt with werewolves before. Let us kill the zombie and you can find another to play with and experiment on. I won't leave until it's dead for good."

"Have you ever dealt with a berserker werewolf?" Derek asked, tone _almost_ polite.

"No. Why?" the man asked.

"Because if you kill my Mate, I will go berserk and kill you. Painfully," Derek replied as though it was the most simple and logical thing in the world.

"You had ... sex ... with ... _that_?" the man recoiled and wrinkled his nose in disgust.

"Do you mean I made love to him? Yes. When he was still fully human. But we've been busy since he was bitten. Trying to cure him. Now leave... please," Derek answered. His eyes had started to glow blue at the threat to his Mate, and his claws were threatening to come out of his fingers. "I won't have an issue killing you if you threaten my Pack, or my Mate, again."

The man on the stairs looked over the scene before him. "I still won't leave until I've killed every zombie I've come across," he said after several moments of tense silence. "I don't really care who it was."

"I'm still a person," Stiles called from behind the couch. He didn't move or reveal himself, just held his free hand up and waved briefly.

The man on the stairs wavered a little and his gun dipped down. "You're gonna put ... him down if you can't find a cure?" He asked after several false starts at the question.

"I'd end myself if we knew for certain there was no hope," Stiles replied, tone completely serious. He let his hand fall back down to his side, arm tired from being held above his head. "I'm petty sure we're getting close to a cure, though...that's just my honest opinion."

"How is..." the man on the starts started. He paused as he realized that wasn't the right way to start the question. "How are you so coherent?"

Stiles shrugged before replying. "I don't know. Maybe because I had something important to hold onto?"

The man looked contemplative for a few moments before he shook his head. "Okay," he said after a few minutes of silence. "I should probably get going. Just... don't let him bite anyone." He said after a few akward momsnts of silence before shaking his head and heading for the stairs.

"Shouldn't you guys stop him or something?" Stiles asked, voice meeker than usual. He looked up at Derek who was pulling a few of the slugs that were still embeded in his body.

Derek shook his head and pulled the last bullet out with a grunt.

"We should just let him go. If he's this surprised by you then he probably hasn't seen any others like you, Stiles," Scott replied as he walked closer and offered a hand to Derek and Stiles. "He'll thin the herds a bit, and that will end up helping us out in the end."

"Whatever you say... you're the Alpha," Stiles replied as he felt himself pulled up. He felt only a slight twinge as he saw Scott's hand on Derek. He pushed the urge to growl down and focused on the fact that he was feeling more like himself than he had hours and that was a relief.

"I'm just glad you're back with us and that he didn't manage to shoot you," Scott said as he ignored the jab about being the Alpha.

TBC . . .


	7. Chapter 6

"Something else?" Stiles felt a growl in the back of his throat. The last time he'd tried something new from Deaton he'd nearly torn Scott apart and that wasn't something he was looking forward to repeating anytime in the near future.

Deaton nodded placidly. "Not a big change. And I just want you to smell this for now. Maybe try a drop on your tongue? That way, if we have a negative response... it won't be so severe."

Stiles gave a faint growl at the memory of being so ... lost and out of control with the last concoction he'd tried. He'd honestly felt like the could have torn Scott apart at the mere _thought_ of his best friend being near his Mate. The possibility of Scott trying to take Derek away from him made him seethe even though he knew; in his heart, that Scott would never try anything like that. Never. Not with Derek or any other man for that matter. He was so in love with Allison there was no one else in the world that the Alpha had eyes for other than his own Mate. But that didn't seem to stop the thoughts that had torn through Stiles' mind as he'd faced off with Scott on the stairs.

"Stiles?" Derek's voice called, a little uncertain sounding. Almost hesitant.

With a mental shake, Stiles turned back to Derek, trying to keep stray thoughts out of his mind as he turned to his other half. "I'm sorry," he said softly, trying to convey the sincerity of the statement. "I don't know where my mind wandered off to this time." He laughed a little as he rubbed the short hair on the back of his head.

"I was just checking on you. I worry sometimes," Derek replied as he took a step back and shook his own head.

"I'm fine. I guess," Stiles replied with a shrug. "My mind is still a little foggy."

Derek didn't buy the excuse, but he let it slide. He didn't want to argue with Stiles when he was being asked to put himself on the line, again. And so soon after the last failure.

"If you don't want to do this now, we don't have to," Deaton was quick to add. "It's your decision. I don't want you to feel like you have to do something. I have a few variations that I can try on some of the ... others outside the walls."

Stiles sighed heavily as he waved to Deaton and steadied himself. "Just let me try before I change my mind for the better," he said with a long-suffering sigh.

Deaton didn't smile, but he did look pleased with Stiles' response. "Thank you," he added pleasantly.

Stiles grumbled but kept himself from growling. Just barely. He walked over to the vial Deaton was holding. He gave it a wary look. This time it looked like green tinged mud, swirling slowly in the clear container.

"You just have to tell me how it smells for now. We can work on more than that if you're feeling up to it," Deaton added, voice smooth and unhurried. He looked as though he had all the time in the world.

"Let me smell this thing...I can't believe those words just came out of my mouth," Stiles grumbled with a sour look on his face. He took the vial slowly from Deaton, trying to brace himself for the foul odor he was sure he'd experience. It looked like something that would eat through the glass at any moment. He took a few breaths away from the vial, trying to remember that he didn't have to actually ingest the 'liquid' if he didn't want to, though he was feeling like it was generous to call the substance in the vial a liquid.

"You can do this later if you want," Derek offered, trying to be helpful.

"Yeah, but if I don't do it now then I'll find a way to make an excudse every time that it comes up. It's best if I do it now while I have the will do take care of it," Stiles replied with a greatful smile to his boyfriend. He loved the man before him and was greateful for everything the other did for him. "You're the best. You know that, right?"

Derek gave him a soft, handsome smile and nodded. "You tell me often enough, I think it's starting to sink in."

"Good!" Stiles grinned and lughed a little. He could feel himself trying to delay further. He really didn't want to take a chance that something bad would happen but he knew he had to bite the bullet at some point. It wouldn't do to try and make someone else take the chance with this stuff. He needed to be the one to do the task. he felt it was part of his responsiblity to the rest of humanity to try. For those tht had been bitten. The7 neede to have that scrap of hope. That being bitten wouldn't be the end of the line for them.

"Take your time," Deaton offered as he backed away, making sure that Stiles was between everyone and Derek. The born wolf was in the most easily defended part of the room. The hope was that if something did go wrong that Stiles' instincts would be to take care of Derek rather than attack the others. It had been the way he'd responded the last time.

Stiles took one last steadying breath before he took a whiff of the vial. He paused, confused. The liquid looked horrible, moved almost unnaturally, but didn't smell bad. It was almost pleasant. "Like, wet dirt. You know... when it rains? A little musty, but not too bad," he said after a few sniffs. "Maybe a hint of old ... house? Something that hasn't had much circulation in a while."

"Interesting," Deaton replied as he took a few notes on a pad of paper he had in one hand.

"Okay... so, that wasn't too bad," Stiles said, trying to sound certain of himself. "Let's try a drop on my tongue. Do you have a dropper?"

"I do," Deaton replied. "I'll go get it. But only if you're certain."

"You know, if you keep asking me that... I won't be so certain," Stiles replied wryly. He huffed out a laugh as he handed the vial over and leaned into Derek's embrace.

"Thank you for not giving up hope," Derek murmured into Stiles' hair. He smiled softly, happy to have his Mate with him.

"You're hard to give up hope around," Stiles replied. "You lost a lot when you were younger and you still keep going. It's only fair to try and match that level of commitment."

"You're good for my ego," Derek laughed.

Stiles sighed softly with a hint of a smile on his face and just enjoyed their moment together.

TBC ...


End file.
